The Villager Comes To Town
by Eternalgnarlyness
Summary: Hey, so I jumped into the whole "Scary Villager" thing after the announcement that he was gonna be in SSB. Therefore, let's get started with a foreword and possibly feedback onto which I should even bother with this.
1. Foreword

_He was one of the most terrifying things I have ever experienced. Always smiling, no matter whom it was he dropped off the edge to plummet to their death; because he didn't care. He was oblivious to this thing called death. What was death to him? A game. Because that's all life ever was in the village. Things were always lively and friendly and lacked this reality that could ever be known as "destruction". It was silly to think that anything could ever be … simple again. It was a free-for all fight; we all were against each other... But him. He made it a game of hide and seek. He was so mentally far away from what these fights were about; So mentally far away from all of us that he was like a plague that we all had to find the cure for but it was a hopeless cause to even attempt it. the game was no longer a free-for all. These fights were just about a friendly competition but to him it didn't seem to matter that he showed no remorse. No empathy; just all smiles. _


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

"That would never be a successful plan. Your blue shells can only do so much Mario. He's fucking ruthless. Do you never see that god damn smile on his face? Every round. Every goddamn round. I swear it's like it has never phased him once that it's just a competition of fun for us; a competitive game." I grimaced. Adjusting my hat and straightening my tights, making sure I looked presentable; at any moment Zelda might be announced into the game, and I can never be too careful.

"Link, it's-a me, A-Mario. I know that if I just-a aim it at the right-a angle I can-a knock him off the map-a." Mario pleaded, a look of agony that I doubted his abilities was visible. His blue shells never failed him before, but they were simply no match in defeating this bastard

"Mario, it's not simply about knocking him off the map; what we truly need to be doing here is showing him the wrong in his ways. That this is simply a friendly competition; we all say sorry in the end and can have breakfast the next morning, bandaged and stitched up from whatever injuries happen the night before. " I sighed out, clenching my fingers into a tight fist, hearing the sound of leather scrunching under the frictions between my palm and my fingers.

"But-a... Link."

"Mario, no. It's far too dangerous. If you wanna do it on your own free will, go for it. But when he turns it all on you have fun escaping those god damn trees he chops down."

Mario turned away from Link, muttering formulations how he could possibly use the lack of platforms in Pokemon Stadium to use his blue shell to the advantage, but he could feel my cold stare beam through him, the only thing truly getting in the way being my hair.

While my stare began to slowly soften, the sudden shock of adrenalin into my spine, racing up my back and causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up arrived as the break of the intense silence. What was that sound exactly? Nothing other than the sound of flying. The distinct sound that indicated the flying of pink vacuum. Kirby, cheeks puffed and all, landed beside Link, aware of the fact he just scared the bejeezus out of him.

Kirby waved heartily to Link, his cloud-soft looking pink cheeks raised a bit, indicating a smile was upon his face. Kirby always had the tendency to puff his cheeks up and fly into an intense conversation; It's not that I didn't enjoy it, infact, it kept a lot of tensions from getting too much within our group of competitors. Competitors might even be too much of a negative word to call all of us; We're nothing short of friends who happen to be in a free-for all competition with each other, beat the shit out of each other, then can apologize the next day.


	3. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2._

_Friday, June 14th. 4:38 P.M._

I dare never really talked to him much. There didn't seem like much to talk about other than the weather, or maybe it was because he intimidated me; either way they were both possibilities and I never really wanted to play with the idea or risk that I might take my aggression and frustration as to how he can be so mindless when causing harm to others without a single hint of regret and possibly harm him outside of the arena.

The Super Smash Brother's Arena was a place where there was always an "Entrance" or a gateway, wherever you came from. Whether it be from the outerspaces of a universe like Starfox was from, or the platforms of a cheerily colored universe like Mario originated, there would be a gateway somewhere to this place called "The Super Smash Brother's Arena". But no matter how illogical it seemed, I always seemed to believe that the gateways were transporters onto another Universe; and in that Universe the Arena was at home. To me, it only seemed logical.

My Gateway was always somewhere in the forests I adored. A lot of the time, a few of the others and I would show up early, discussing bets and whatnot, but never once since The Villager has been announced into the game and a gateway was placed in his universe has he shown up earlier than 8:00.

It was like he didn't want to get to know us before he would unleash his smiley wrath upon us. It wasn't fun to him; this was just competition and that's all. It's not that it was bad, it just seemed completely illogical.

I walked out into the dusky forrest, greeted from about 10 or so feet away, a small handle on a tree that indicated the portal which brought me to the Arena. While adjusting my hat, my legs seemed to meander over towards the knob on the tree. Seemingly subconsiously, my wrist reached and turned the handle. As my arm retracted, a rectangle shape opened like a door made from the bark of the tree had opened with it. I peeked into the darkness that I knew once I stepped in, I would only be blind momentarily after closing the door; then after my moment's blindness I would suddenly appear within a silvery flash of light outside the Arena's gate, welcomed warmly and cheerily by the others. I stepped into my personal portal and proceeded to what seemed like my second home, even if I was only ever there for about 2 hours a night.

_**Friday, June 14th. 2013. 10:34 P.M.**_

_**Maybe he's scared of us. Maybe we shouldn't be intimidated by him, but vise versa; it would only explain why he never shows up early and never says he is remorseful for the damage he might cause.. or maybe it's due to his lack of reality. What if I do talk to him.. I believe I have enough self control; it's not like I haven't .. well actually, no. I have never dealt or talked to, or even met anyone quite like him.**_

I looked over the note to myself, twiddling with the pen between my on what to scribble down next.

_**I don't even recall anyone really talking to him and explaining what The Arena was really hosting every night - a game, practically. Maybe the reason he has never really expressed the remorse because he is just confused and scared - Maybe I just .. jumped to conclusions far too quickly.**_

_***Note to self; well, this whole thing is a note to myself...**_

_**** P.S: Inform the others of your misinterpretation of The Villager.**_

As I finished up my note, I stared at it. Everything seemed pretty clear now.

The Villager never showed up early because no one ever told him some of us came early.

The Villager never hinted remorse because he was never informed we weren't all enemies; we're friendly competitors.

The Villager just really likes smiling.

The Villager is actually intimidated of us; and I really should try talking to him and explaining these daily competitions.

Yeah.. I was just jumping to conclusions, I mean, it's barely been a week since he was announced to be joining the arena's competitors. We only see him from the beginnning of the matches, 8:30, to the end, 10:00.

Everything makes sense now.


End file.
